


say my name

by followsrabbit



Category: SKAM Austin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 22:06:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18214265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followsrabbit/pseuds/followsrabbit
Summary: Daniel Williamson had never given all that much thought to the concept of soulmates. Not until a name appeared on his upper back.





	say my name

**Author's Note:**

> this is... literally just like a thousand words of Daniel being obsessive, and I have zero excuse for it?

Daniel Williamson hadn’t given incredibly much thought to the concept of soulmates, until a name appeared on his upper back.

His parents weren’t soulmates—no grand shock, there—and hadn’t raised him or his sister or his brother to hold any deep respect for the system.  _System_. Like a random person’s name randomly materializing on your skin had to mean something.

There was this thing called  _real life_ , and it mattered a hell of a lot more than the potential inevitability of a soulmate mark. Real life, as in hanging with friends and dominating at football and avoiding the fucked up remnants of his family whenever possible. That kind of thing.

Call him a dick, fine, but all those people who obsessed over soulmate marks? The  _romantics_ who agonized over the names that may or may not show on their skin, of a person they may or may not know? They probably hadn’t ever had a crowd scream for them in the last quarter of a football game. They probably didn’t have their pick of Bouldin’s dating pool. They probably needed more of a life.

This was why, when Jo gave him an odd look in the locker room after practice one day, Daniel didn’t expect the words, “Dude, check out your back,” to mean much. Some people spent their whole damn adolescence waiting for a soulmate mark, sure. He was not one of them.

But…

When Daniel contorted enough to see his shoulder blade in the nearest mirror, his heart—it stumbled. Stuttered. Stopped. Something.

Because the name  _Grace Olsen_  had scribbled itself onto his back, in small, black script.

Fucking something.

Daniel stared for a second. Then he jogged back to his locker, and covered it up.

* * *

_Grace Olsen Grace Olsen Grace Olsen Grace Olsen Grace Olsen—_

Daniel knew he’d spent a ridiculous amount of time looking over his shoulder, into his bathroom mirror. In the front pocket of his jeans, his phone kept vibrating with texts. In the other room, his trig homework remained an unfinished joke.

_Grace Olsen Grace Olsen Grace Olsen Grace Olsen Grace Olsen—_

* * *

Daniel could guess the exact moment when Grace Olsen’s name had curled its way between the knots in his back. Or, he could now, anyway. At the time, there hadn’t been any searing sign. No burn. No stab-wound sensation. Nothing so piercing. But he'd still bet his car that Grace Olsen’s name had appeared on his back the minute she’d stared him in the eye and said, “Move.” Because he might not have felt the mark form, but he’d sure as hell felt  _something_ right then.

Almost against his will, Daniel swung his gaze around the school courtyard. Paused at one head of dark curls. Not her. And another. Nope. And then, finally…

Gotcha.

Grace Olsen was walking with one her friends. Not Kelsey. The other one, Megan, who had Jo freakingfixated lately.

Daniel kept staring. Willing Grace to stare back. And maybe there was something to the whole  _soulmate bond_ idea, because it worked. She looked up. Looked over at him. A second of shock registered on her pretty face, like she was just as surprised by the sudden eye contact as he was, but a glare replaced it soon enough. By the time he replied with a raised brow, she’d already glanced away.

And Daniel felt like he had when she’d brushed her shoulder past his, just a day ago. Jolted. Awake.

He didn’t bother pretending not to watch her walk away.

Alive.

* * *

Grace was  _mean_  in their second interaction. Which, given their first, wasn’t actually all that surprising. Just unprecedented.

Part of him, maybe, had thought his name might have appeared somewhere on her skin in the last few days. But apparently not yet, because here she was, still charmingly cruel, wielding razor words— _I find you completely repulsive_ —on perfect lips. High and mighty as hell, for a girl he’d just seen shaking her ass in the school courtyard. 

To make her friend laugh. Obviously, to make her friend laugh.

Daniel wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly how much her friend Megan’s life had to suck right now. Jo was his bro and all, but _wow_  had he fucked up there. So Grace Olsen had been trying to cheer her friend up before she’d started tearing into him. He’d tell her he respected that, but suspected she’d tell him to fuck off.

Part of him wanted to ask, _If I’m so repulsive, then why is your name on my back?_ , but he didn't. He brushed past her without admitting a thing.

It might have been her name, but it was  _his_ mark. 

He’d keep it that way, for a bit.

* * *

Donald. There was no way in hell she actually believed his name was Donald. He had her name imprinted into him, and she wouldn’t even  _say_ his.

He'd started wearing a bandage over the mark, most days. Too late to hide it from Jo—who had plenty of his own to deal with right now—but it’d keep the rest of his teammates from noticing it in the locker room.

Other guys had marks, sure. But this one was his. No one else’s.

His phone kept vibrating with messages from everyone but her.

* * *

“There’s one more thing.”

“What? Enlighten me.”

And Daniel could have. Fuck, he could have. He could have said,  _I’m not giving up, because your name is embedded into me. What do you think about that?_

Grace was still standing there, so expectant, so righteously—coolly, beautifully—above it all, and he could have  _ruined_ that seamless composure of hers. Could have crushed it with just a few words.

 _She’d run_ , some instinct cautioned from the back of his mind.  _She’d run so far, so fast, that you’d never catch her._

Daniel felt his jaw tense.

No. That wasn’t happening.

So he gave her a different truth: “Freaking hell, you’re gorgeous.”

That composure of hers? He still saw it crack.  _Made_ it crack. 

When he called out, “Just let me know what it’s gonna take to get you on a date. I’ll do anything,” he meant it.

* * *

Other truths he could have given her:

_I like the way your name looks on me._

_I’d like the way_ you’d  _look on me._

_I’d like to see my name on you._

_If my name isn’t already on you, I want to fucking write it there._

Yeah. Okay. Daniel knew he was fucked.


End file.
